


An Impossible Prince

by Cheythecheekster02



Category: Hvitserk Ragnarsson - Fandom, Ivar Ragnarsson - Fandom, Ubbe Ragnarsson - Fandom, Vikings - Fandom
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Ragnarssons - Freeform, Swearing, Vikings, Vikings smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 13:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21271808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheythecheekster02/pseuds/Cheythecheekster02
Summary: Being Ivars betrothed was a lot more difficult, you could not avoid the devil as easily as you wanted.





	1. Before

Once, you had thought that Ivar the Boneless was a nice man, but that was when the two of you were younger and he seemed to cherish you. Now, he was nothing but a barbarian who seemed to do nothing more than raid villages and sleep with women. You wondered why you had been excited to be betrothed to the man, and wished that your father had not given his only daughter to the youngest Ragnarsson. You wished it could have been Hvitserk or Ubbe since both of them had been nicer to you than the youngest.

You sighed as you pulled the bread from the oven and set the pan on the large wooden table before you let your skirts drop back to the floor and you wiped your brow. Aslaug had asked you to be the cook for all of the meals since she had loved your cooking so much, you knew better than to refuse her, so you took the job. Being the cook did not have many bad moments except that only could eat when everything was out of the kitchen on the table. You hadn’t really spent many meals sitting at the large table in the Great Hall. You didn’t really enjoy hearing the drunken men more than you have to.

You went back to turning the stew before you sat on the stool and relaxed, the day had been full of cooking and slaving over the stove. The men were due back after the sun had set so you figured you had time to run back to your cottage to take a bath before dinner. You checked over the stew once more before walking from the kitchen and out into the muddy streets of Kattegat. You walked briskly back to your cabin and tried to smile at the women who were getting ready for their husbands who were returning from a raid. Once you reached the cabin you kicked off your muddy boots outside before walking into the cool dark space. You moved to start a fire before setting some water on the fire to warm it up.

You busied yourself around the cabin until the water was hot enough for your liking. You grabbed the water and dumped it into the tub before shedding your clothes and stepping in. You sighed in delight as the hot water hit your skin. You sunk down so that your hair was wet before you began to undo the braids and finger comb through your raven colored hair. You began to wash your body quickly before the water turned cold before stepping out and grabbing a rag to dry yourself off. You put on your clothes and you were about to rebraid your hair when the door swung open and Ivar crawled in like the little pest he was.  
You frowned, Ivar had not usually come to your cabin, he was a prince now and he had made it known to you that princes did not go frollicking with farm girls.

“Back early, I see.” You mumbled and began to braid your hair tightly.

Ivar grunted, before pulling himself onto your bed and laying down. “I thought you had run off with some lowly man when you were not in the kitchen.”

You scoffed at the thought, you had wanted to leave, but you did not want to leave with another man. You had relied on yourself for so long that you didn’t really want to marry anyone but the engagement with Ivar was going to keep going until one of you died.

“You should not say such things, my prince, I could poison your food.” You said as you glanced over to him.

He had propped himself up on his elbows and he was staring at you as you braid your hair. “You wouldn’t do such a thing, (Y/N).”  
You walked over to the fire and put it out as you waited for the snake on your bed to get up and move. He did not.

“What did you really want, Ivar?” You asked with a sigh.

“Is it a crime to check up on my betrothed? I cannot simply see how you are faring?” Ivar asked with a growl.

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing that he hated when you did that. When you both were younger you had done it when he had tried to cheat in a game and he had grabbed you roughly and told you not to disrespect him like that. You had pushed him down in the mud and had spit on him, and told him to never touch you ever again. That had started the downward spiral of your friendship between the youngest Ragnarsson. He had progressively became more mean towards you, he had once cut one of your braids and then shot arrows at you like you were a target.

“Well I must go back to the kitchen, so do not make a mess of the place.” You said before you walked out the cabin and put your boots on, hoping that he was not in a mood to destroy your things

•••

The bustle in the kitchen had finally slowed down and you were eating some of the bread you had made. You could hear the loud men as they drank and were reunited with their wives or trying to seduce the slaves that were bringing out the food or filling their mead. The exhaustion of the day was finally beginning to set in, your body felt heavy and every time you moved you were sore. You wanted to just climb under the furs and sleep all day the next day but you remembered you had agreed to help cook for a wedding in the next tribe.

You had barely heard the door to the kitchen open but you felt a dug on your skirt. You looked down and seen a half lidded Ivar looking up at you. You smiled softly at him, hoping that he might be a little nicer to you now that he was drunk.

“You do not look so good, my prince.” You said as you moved so that you were sitting next to him on the floor.

“I feel very good, little one.” He slurred, his hand smacking down on your leg making you jump. It would no doubt leave a bruise that he would yell about later.

You sighed and moved his hand from your thigh onto his own thigh, he stared at it for a long time. A comfortable silence settled over the two of you and you felt him lean against you, his head resting against your shoulder. You couldn’t help but feel the small flutter in your chest that you had tried to push down for so long.

You instinctively brushed him off of you and moved so that there was some distance between the two of you. You heard him growl lowly as he glared at you for moving away.

“You always pull away from me as if you hate being touched by the cripple.” He hissed and grabbed your wrist roughly.

You tried to pull away from him but his grip tightened, making you whimper. “Maybe if you weren’t such an ass, then I would want to be around you.” You countered before you finally pulled your wrist away from the brute.

You were trying to get away from him but he grabbed your skirt and pulled you close so that your faces were almost touching. “I am nothing but nice to you, little one, so watch how you speak to your future husband.” He slurred angrily.

Before you knew what you were doing you punched him in the nose, making him push you away from him and hold onto his nose. Once you were standing you stomped on his fingers, making him howl even more.

“You watch how you speak to me, Ragnarsson.” You yelled at him before you stormed out of the kitchen and out of the Great Hall.

You stood outside and let the rain hit your heated skin, it was pointless to think that Ivar would be nice while drunk, Ivar was never going to be nice to you. You stomped back to the cabin and slammed the door shut. Your had felt slightly guilty for what you did to Ivar, but he deserved it for everything he has done to you. You kicked off your boots and rid yourself of your dress which was now covered in mud at the end of it. You had enjoyed to sleep naked, so you started a fire before you crawled into bed and closed your eyes. 

•••

You hadn’t remembered falling asleep, but you woke to sun streaming in through the crack in the door frame. You groaned, turning over in bed and snuggled into the warmth of the bed. You heard the soft snore, and your half asleep self thought it was you until you feel the heavy thump of an arm over you. Your eyes snapped open, facing the sleeping devil.

Out of shock you scream, rolling off the bed and taking the furs with you to cover your naked body.

“Why must you scream?” He hissed before rolling over and pushing his face into the pillow as if this were his bed.

You soon realized that he, too, was very naked and exposed without the furs you had tightly wrapped around yourself. Your eyes went from his sculpted shoulders to the curve of his ass. You found him staring at you when you went to look at his head.

“If you came here with the idea that I would just give in to you, you were wrong, my prince.” You said with narrowed eyes as you tried to hide the beating of your heart.

“You know my name, (Y/N), so drop the prince title.” He grunted, not caring that he was laying on your bed naked for all the world to see.

Ivar was a strange man indeed.

“Why are you in my home...naked?” You tried to ask sharply, but the embarrassment you felt for being naked as well overtook you.

Ivar moved so he was resting against his elbows while still on his stomach. “You ask too many questions, (Y/N). I’m growing tired of answering them.”

You glared at him, before you stood up and walked over to grab your dress. Not caring if he saw you naked, you began to dress yourself because you had a place to be. You heard him moving on the bed and when you turned, he was getting dressed as well.

“I have to go to the neighboring tribe so do not think such brazen things if you cannot find me.” You said before wrapping a cloak around your shoulders.

Ivar only grunted before your left your cabin and into the chilly morning air. You sighed as you began the long walk, you were more bummed that you had to walk alone.

If you only knew what you were getting into.


	2. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with Ivar, you have to go cook for a wedding between a large slave trader and a girl who looks unready to marry. Things begin to get sticky when you are accused of being a slave, and any hope that your arranged marriage might have been a good one goes out the door.

Peter was a brute of a man, he was not the handsomest either, he had a very aged face with a grey beard. You wondered why the poor girl was to be married to this...man. His eyes seemed to follow you with every move you make as you helped the slaves carry the large pans of bread to the large table that was set up. You tried to ignore it as you tried to get one of the slave girls to talk to you but they were so frightened of being beaten that they would just smile at you occasionally.  
Peter just yelled at everyone as they set up the hall for the large celebration, nothing seemed good enough for the slave trader. You shook your head, and thanked the Gods that Peter was not living in Kattegat. You were laughing to yourself when you felt someone roughly grab you, and spin you around.  
“How dare you…!” You exclaimed before you felt the burning of a slap on your cheek.  
You stood there shocked, no one had ever hit you, maybe Ivar, but he never did it as hard as that. “I do not know what they teach you slaves in Kattegat, but here, they do not talk or laugh.” Peter hissed in your ear.  
You were stunned, surely were not as dirty as the other girls. “I can assure you that I am no-”  
The next slap was harder and you had to spit out the blood. “You’re a mouthy one, aren’t ye?” Peter grabbed your chin, his fingers wrapping around to press into your cheeks harshly.  
You could see all of the other girls begin to cower into the kitchen area, terrified that they were going to be next. Instinctively, you stomped on Peter’s foot, making him howl in pain and push you gruffly to the ground. Your head bounced off the wooden floor and you winced. You quickly tried crawling away, the pain in your head was growing to an almost unbearable state. Peter’s hand tangles in your hair, pulling it hard to make you stand and face him.  
By now there were two other men standing behind Peter, waiting for him to toss you to them. They resembled hungry dogs, their eyes were hungry to see your head on the ground, unattached to your body. You tried to fight Peter, but his grip on your hair tightened and he seemed to enjoy the pain he was inflicting onto you.  
“I’m going to make you wish that you had never opened your mouth.” Peter whispered in your ear before he tossed you to the two dogs behind him.  
“Put her in a cell and flog her. I have no time to deal with this nonsense on my wedding day.” Peter barked at them.  
The neanderthals nodded eagerly and dragged you out of the Great Hall. You were beginning to grow tired, the pain in your head was making your eyes feel heavy and you wanted to vomit. You were barely able to focus on where they were taking you, you knew that your feet were dragging helplessly behind you. You let out a tired giggle, your cloudy mind thinking of how Ivar drags his legs around behind him. The men threw you hard onto the ground, your sore cheek connecting with the cold stone of the floor. You let out a grown before you tried to pull yourself up on your hands and knees.  
A sharp pain pierced your skin as the sound of a whip cracked through the small room. You could hear them laughing as you tried your best to crawl away from them, unable to see anything since there was barely any light. You yelled, hoping someone would hear you as you tried to climb up the stone walls. Another crack of the whip was sounded and you screamed, the material of your dress was now ripped and it felt heavy. You felt the tears going down your cheeks, you willed them to stop but the pain in both your head and back was too great. You closed your eyes and imagined that you were at home, a fire in the fireplace, wrapped up in the furs. Hell, you even imagined Ivar there being his normal horrible self. Another crack of the whip and you could only manage a whimper as the laughter seemed to grow louder and louder until it was all you could hear.  
Everything seemed to stop, you couldn’t see or hear anything, there was just nothing.

~

You hissed as you tried to pull yourself to a standing position to the bars that light was flooding the cell. Your hands finally clasping on the cool metal and you let out a victorious sob. You pulled yourself up and held onto those bars for life as your eyes adjusted to the bright light outside. You tried to see if you could recognize the passing people but your head still throbbed and your body was weak.  
By the grace of the Gods, Ubbe was walking past the bars, pretty close actually. You used the rest of your strength and grabbed onto his ankle, making him fall face first. If you had the energy, you would have laughed. You watched as he crawled to the opening, his eyes widening as he met yours.  
“Get...me out of...here.” You croaked before your arms finally gave out and you crumpled to the ground. You sobbed louder, you wanted to do nothing except for stop the dizzy feeling that made your stomach flip.  
You tried to stay awake but your eyes got heavy with exhaustion. You felt a hand swatting at your cheek, the cheek that was most likely bruised and with the remaining energy you hand you tried to hit whoever was hitting you. Ubbe yelped when you scratched his face and your eyes finally opened to see that it was not those two hounds who had thrown you in here and whipped you raw.  
“How did you end up here?” He hissed as he tried to pull you up. You pushed him away when he touched your back, the touch alone caused your back to feel as if it were on fire.  
Ubbe’s brows came together in confusion before he looked down at his hands which were covered in a thin layer of your blood. When his eyes met your heavy lids, you could just barely see the burning anger that was behind them. You pulled yourself up weakly and stood on very weak legs. Ubbe caught you as you were about to fall and tried to find a way to hold you that wouldn’t cause you pain.  
“(Y/N), if you cannot walk I am going to have to carry you…” He said but you were beginning to lose your senses again, which made her panic but she was so tired that she could barely keep her eyes open. “(Y/N)...?”  
You went fully slack in his arms, you felt as if you were standing in a dark room by yourself with nothing in the room. You were so tired but you hurt so much you couldn’t get your mind to let you rest. So you sat down on the ground and stared out into the darkness, but only this time, dark tendrils grabbed onto your legs and began to pull you down.  
You screamed, rolling onto your stomach and trying to find something to grab onto, your nails dug into the blackness but your fingers slipped through it like it was water. You looked up to try to find someone to help you but the only person that seemed to be there was Peter. You screamed at the sight of him as he walked closer to you, a smirk pulling at his mouth.  
“I’m going to make you learn your place…”

Your eyes snapped open and you licked your dry lips. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat and you turned your head slowly to look around the room. This definitely was not your cabin, nor was it any room you had ever been in. You propped yourself up on your elbows, a small hiss slipping past your lips as you did so. There was nothing in the room to help you identify it either.  
The door was pushed open and Ubbe’s head popped in. A small smile pulled at his mouth when he saw you awake. “And the princess wakes.” He said before walking into the room and leaving the door open a crack.  
You pushed yourself up so you were sitting. “I should cut out your tongue for that, Ubbe.” You grumbled as you swung your legs over the bed and ignored the constant burning in your back. “I am surprised no one has sent for Ivar, seeing as you had found his future wife almost dead.” You cast a look over to Ubbe who looked a little nervous.  
You narrowed your eyes at the Ragnar look-alike. “What are you fools planning?”  
Ubbe looked like he wanted to tell you, but he was not going to budge on the subject. You had once pinned him to the ground and called him a ninny for pushing Ivar into the lake when he could not swim. Ubbe used to tease the two of you for being so alike but for hating each other. You had an idea that whatever it was, was not going to be good. You stood on shaky legs and began to put on your boots which still had your blood on them.  
You were hurt, but you had things to do, and you would rather just forget about happened all together.  
“(Y/N), you really should rest more.” Ubbe said as he came closer to you, his large hand wrapping around your wrist and pulled you back towards the bed.  
You scoffed, “Men have been through much more than I have, they have gone straight back to raid the next day.” You pried his hand from your arm and brushed passed him.  
You pulled open the door to see the person who owned the room. Of course it was Ivar. And he looked more angry than you had ever seen him. If his hands were not on his crutches, you knew that they would have grabbed you and shaken you until you told him what had happened. You tried to move around the barbarian, but he put his crutch out to stop you from moving. You were growing annoyed with the Ragnarssons and thought about taking Ivar’s crutch and beating both of them with it.  
“I see.” He hissed, looking between you and Ubbe, “The cripple is too much for you so you sleep with his brother.”  
You felt a little poke in your heart, it was expected of him to look over your injuries and accuse you, but you hoping that he would see the large bruise on your cheek. Maybe you were hoping too much of him, you knew him much better than he did most likely. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, hoping that he did not see the hurt that you were feeling. That hurt was bubbling into anger, that was solely because of the fool who leaned on his crutches.  
“You are a tool.” You snapped at him and kicked his crutch out of your way.  
Ivar regained his balance quickly and began to hobble after you. “How am I a tool, (Y/N)? Wouldn’t you be the tool here?”  
You walked faster, your hands itched to hit something, you would prefer the two hounds who had tormented you; Ivar would suffice if you had to.  
“You are oblivious, rude, barbarous, and so many other things, Ivar.” You finally stopped so that you could look into his face. “And I wish that I could hate you, so that maybe I could not like you anymore.”  
You watched as the emotions on his face as they changed before his eyes narrowed. It was something you had gotten so used to that seemed to make you more angry. After a long time of him staring at your face, Ubbe standing silently in the doorway, his eyes finally found the ugly bruise on your cheek. Ivar moved closer to you and grabbed your face roughly before he turned it to get a closer look.  
Why did you let him?  
You thought maybe it was because you were exhausted, or maybe you had just wanted him to see the bruise and ask. To care just a little about something other than conquering lands like his father.  
“Who did this?” He asked slowly as his thumb brushed the purple flesh.  
You suddenly pushed him away from you, making him stumble backward and almost fall on his behind. “You do not get to know after what you just did. I am tired of your mood swings, I do not want this.” You mumbled the last part and then turned on your heel and walked away from them.  
“(Y/N)! Do not walk away from me, woman!” Ivar bellowed, he kept shouting your name but you refused to turn around to look at him.


End file.
